


Don't Get Dead

by A_Markov



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Comedy, F/F, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2018-12-30 02:49:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12099075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Markov/pseuds/A_Markov
Summary: It was a simple plan: Escort the dwarf to the warehouse then hit the tavern for a few drinks and some cards.Then the Carta showed up--and the city guard--and a Crow assassin--and the Chantry guards--and the Templars--and The Red Iron mercenaries-...Looks like it’s time for a new plan.





	1. All you have to do is...

**Author's Note:**

> I've always been curious about Hawke's first year in Kirkwall. What kind of jobs did she do? How did she meet Worthy, Tom and Elegant? This story answers a couple of those questions. On a personal note, I've never been able accept that Hawke would be able to survive Kirkwall as a mage. There was just too much anti-mage sentiment and her actions were too public for her to escape being identified and confined to the Circle. On the other hand, I love snarky Hawke and can't understand why anyone would play her angry or virtuous when the sarcastic options are available. And, since Varric is upset that he isn't in the story, I'll let him describe her for you…
> 
>  
> 
> _"Before Marian met me, she was a force of nature with a sharp sword and a sharper tongue. After she met me, well… she was a force of nature with a sharp sword, a sharper tongue and the best damn publicist in Thedas."_  
>  **-Varric Tethras**

 

**Warning:** **Coarse language and sexual innuendo**

**Chapter 1- All you have to do is…**

 

The worst thing about fighting dwarves is that the little buggers are solid.

Marian Hawke was a fairly big girl. In fact, she towered over nearly everyone she met and had arms like a blacksmith. When people met her for the first time, “lithe” and “graceful” were two words that never crossed their minds. She wasn’t exactly masculine but with her powerful build, she wasn’t likely to be asked to play the elfin princess either. (She spent several days a week in strength training with a Qunari mercenary who could wield a great sword with one hand and pick up a full-grown Druffalo.) She was very proficient with the long sword she carried, and the large buckler she had strapped to her left arm was used for offense as often as it was used for defense.  When she put her weight behind a blow with that shield, it meant something was going to break. 

Swinging the shield was an exercise she rather enjoyed. It usually resulted in a satisfying impact, the sounds of broken bones, (sometimes accompanied by cries of pain) and her victim sliding along the floor, breaking furniture, doors, merchant’s carts, occasionally small hovels or storage sheds until they came to something solid, like a stone wall.  Then there was another satisfying thud, often accompanied by the sound of _more_ breaking bones and the occasional whimper. Mostly it was the humans that whimpered. Elves were usually dead by the time they hit something that didn’t break or move and the Maker-damned dwarves wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of falling down and sliding in the first place! The little buggers were too solid.  Her best blows only got her some surprised grunts and rocked ‘em back a few steps. It made fighting them less fun.

Not that she was supposed to be fighting dwarves, right now. In fact, she wasn’t supposed to be fighting anyone. This job was supposed to be a simple retrieval and escort.

She had been told it was going to be simple.  It had certainly sounded simple enough when Athenril asked her to do it. All she had to do was, meet the dwarf at the foot of Sundermount and escort him to the warehouse in Lowtown. 

Simple right? 

Three easy steps: Step one; go to Sundermount. Step two; find the dwarf. Step three; tour guide. “Over there is Kirkwall’s main gate. Right here is the sewage tunnel we use to get in and out of the city when we don’t want to be seen using the main gate. This is Lowtown- don’t wander off by yourself. There’s the warehouse, Athenril is inside waiting for you. You go inside, I’m going to the Hanged Man for some well-deserved refreshments.”  

Simple.

Of course, Athenril forgot to mention the carta.  Why would she think it was important for Hawke  to know that the carta was interested in the dwarf? Or the fact that the carta, (who was definitely interested in the dwarf) knew that he was coming into town tonight… by way of Sundermount.  These inconsequential little bits of trivia had been conveniently omitted from the conversation regarding tonight’s ‘simple’ task.

“Hey, Mary,” (Athenril had a tiresome habit of using a shortened version of her name.) “Easy one for you tonight. Got a dwarf coming in from Starkhaven. All you have to do is meet him at the East Trail and bring him to the Exchange.”

It was the ‘All you have to do’ that should have tipped her off. Whenever somebody says; “all you have to do is…” it means it isn’t an ‘ **easy one**.’ It means you’re completely screwed.  It means you’re definitely going to be doing a lot more than playing tour guide. And, in this instance, it means that you’re going to be fighting for your life against a dozen of the most feared, most determined, most tenacious, least scrupulous, meanest bastards on the Maker’s green earth:

Dwarven Merchants. 

It means that instead of lounging at the Hanged Man drinking swill and teaching guardsmen not to draw to an inside straight you’re going to be jumping over another vicious cut at your legs and being disappointed by the lack of falling down and sliding that occurs after you hit one of the solid little buggers with your shield.

Hawke jumped over another vicious cut at her legs and hit the little bugger who had swung at her with her shield. There was a disappointing lack of falling down and sliding. She brought the hilt of her sword down on her attacker’s helmet. The ‘clang’ was pretty satisfying. His eyes crossed and he staggered away, tripping over one of his compatriots. She took advantage of the momentary lull to grab her charge by the collar and drag him into the mouth of a narrow alley.

“What the hell are you doing?” He asked.

Hawke slammed her boot down on an incoming axe. “Alley’s narrow.” She drove her knee into the side of her attacker’s head. “Can’t be surrounded.”  She followed up with a sword thrust and spun around slamming another dwarf against the wall with her shield. “Easier to defend.”

He crossed his arms and glared up at her. “No way out, either.”

She kicked high, staggering another attacker back. “Maybe if I wasn’t the only one fighting,” she pointed out, “I wouldn’t have to worry about being flanked!” Her sword flashed out and another dwarf fell to the ground.

He shrugged, “What can I say? I’m a merchant, not a Legionnaire.”

“Funny, these guys are merchants and they seem to be fighting just fine.” Hawke drove the edge of her shield into the throat of a dwarf on her left and used the leverage to kick out at another one to her right. “Can’t you help at all?”

“They’re _carta_ merchants. Besides, I don’t have any armor or weapons, what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know…” The remaining dwarves backed away to regroup. “Maybe you could throw rocks…” Hawke took the opportunity to adjust the wrist strap on her buckler and check her footing. “…or say bad things about their ancestors?” Of the dozen ambushers, four lay dead and three more too injured to be a serious threat. Five on one was better odds and she needed to get the fight over with before they sent for reinforcements.

The dwarves all wore the insignia of Hadran, the local carta boss. Two of them were looking around for a way to get at her while the other three paced back and forth in front of the alley just out of the reach of her long sword.

“Stay here!” she muttered.

“What are you going to do?”

“What do you think?”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Not die.”

 With that, Hawke dove forward and tucked into a roll that bought her to her one knee in the midst of the carta dwarves. Her sword flashed out twice and she rolled to her left narrowly avoiding the great axe that struck the cobbles where she’d just been. She thrust upward and split the dwarf in front of her, following the spray of his blood toward the last remaining ambusher. Using her shield like a plow blade, she charged and slammed full into him, lifting him off his feet and forcing him back through the air until he slammed into a wall. She continued driving forward and was finally rewarded with the sound of breaking bones and a weak groan as his last breath dribbled from him.

She turned to see the last of their attackers on the ground and her charge kicking him repeatedly. “You couldn’t do that when there were twelve of them?”

“What… was… that?” he panted between kicks.

“What was what?” Hawke dispatched the dwarf at his feet.

“Diving into the middle of them with no warning and no plan!”

“I warned you.” She moved around the area prodding bodies with her boot. “I had a plan!”

“I hate to break it to you, but ‘Don’t die.’ isn’t a plan!”

“I didn’t say I had a plan for _you_ , I said I had a plan.” She gestured around at the dead dwarves. “And it worked.” She wiped her blade clean and sheathed it.

“Plans generally contain more than two words!”

“Do a lot of battle planning, do you?” She jerked her head to the side. “Come on, we’ve got to keep moving. No telling who heard the commotion and the last thing we need is to run into the city gar—“

She was interrupted by a cynical drawl, “Well, well, well… Marian Hawke…”

Hawke’s shoulders tensed and she let her head loll back on her neck. She sighed, “Hey, Jascen.” Glancing over and seeing the tall red-headed guardsman’s glower, she rolled her eyes. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to act so familiar with a member of Kirkwall’s elite… _guardsman_ Jascen.” She performed a perfunctory curtsey.

The guardsman gestured to his partner to stay back and casually strolled around the scene. “Hawke, why is it that whenever I come across a pile of dead bodies, you always seem to be nearby?”

“First of all, I’d like to point out that these dead bodies are scattered, not piled.” Hawke said, then her face fell into a pout, “Also, why is it my fault that you never take me anywhere nice that doesn’t have a pile of dead bodies next to it?”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, “What’s your story this time?”

Her eyes widened in mock hurt and indignation. “Why, guardsman Jascen, whatever do you mean?” She put a hand to her forehead and swayed slightly as though she was going to swoon. “I was just escorting my good friend… um…” She fumbled for the dwarf’s name and couldn’t remember it, “…who is visiting from out of town…” she covered, “to the Hanged Man for a quiet drink, when we were set upon by… uh… _four_ of these ruffians!” She crossed over to drape an arm over the dwarf’s shoulder. “We barely managed to dodge their ambush and we would have surely perished by their hands if these other eight hadn’t shown up and come to our defense.” She doffed her helm and held it over her heart, “I am truly humbled by their sacrifice and I only wish I knew their names so I could extend my gratitude to their families.” She raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Perhaps if I was to give a small token of that gratitude to an honorable guardsman, like yourself, it would find its way to its rightful place?” She spun toward Jascen, deftly replacing her helm. When she stopped a few inches away, her right hand rested on his shoulder and a small coin pouch had appeared, dangling from the fingers of her left.

The guardsman stared at her through narrowed eyelids for a moment before crossing his arms.

“Come on, Jascen, these little guys are obviously carta. I’m doing the city a favor!” She said, jangling the purse and wiggling her eyebrows.

Jascen rolled his eyes and growled but he snatched the purse from Hawke’s hand and weighed it briefly before he tossed it to his partner. “Maker damn you, Hawke, would it kill you to let me have one night where I don’t have to cover for you?” He shifted his impressive glare to the dwarf. “I don’t know what she told you, friend, but the Hawke here is three kinds of bad luck and ten kinds of trouble. If I were you, I’d find another guide.”

Hawke reached up to pinch his cheek, “Aw, Jascen, sweet talk like that….” She let her hand trail down his neck to his other shoulder, “a girl would think it was Valentine’s day…”

He reached up and grabbed her wrist, pushing her away. “First, give me back my badge. Second, keep that hand away from me, I can still smell your sister on it.”

Hawke twisted out of his grip and spun away, tossing him his badge. She grabbed the dwarf by his arm and pushed him toward a side street. “Come on, my-good-friend-who-is-visiting-from-out-of-town, we need to make tracks before a _real_ guardsman shows up.” She turned to face the guardsman, and continued walking backwards, “And, Jascen…? I diddle my sister with the other hand, the woman you smelled on _that_ hand was your wife.” She turned away but paused to look over her shoulder. “Not that I’d expect you to recognize her scent.” With a raucous laugh, she caught the dwarf’s shoulder and led him away at a fast trot.


	2. Too Much of a Good Thing is Bad for You

**_Warning:_ ** **_Coarse language and sexual innuendo_ **

 

Hawke kept up a quick pace through the twisting alleyways and narrow streets of Lowtown. Twice she doubled back on their path, roughly dragging the dwarf onto a new trajectory, and once she pushed him unceremoniously into a small alcove and waited for a group of sailors to stumble by. When he tried to question her, she shoved her gloved fist into his mouth and hissed at him to shut up.

When the coast was clear and she let him back out into the street, he protested. “Who do you think you are?”

She smirked down at him. “I am many things to many people. To my mother I am a disappointment who will never bear her grandchildren. To my boss, I am a smart-mouthed, devastatingly-effective pain in her small yet shapely ass. To my enemies, I am death incarnate. To my friends, I am kind.” She paused to face him and perform a small curtsey, “I am the Hawke, and most importantly for you, right now, I am the person who’s keeping you alive.” She grabbed the cloth of his shirt at the shoulder and began pulling him down another narrow street that looked no different to him than the last ten streets she’d dragged him down.

He dug in his heels and wrenched himself out of her grasp. “You’re supposed to be taking me to meet Athenril.”

“And you’re supposed to be an easy gig.” Hawke glanced up, raised her arm and moved her hand in a simple pattern. “Mind telling my why Hadran’s thugs are looking for you? His business and Athenril’s don’t overlap much and they usually work stuff out without bloodshed.”

The dwarf looked uncomfortable but he stopped edging away. “I guess—“

A very young elf appeared out of nowhere. “Hey, Hawke.”

“Hey, Tom. We’ve got a little problem.” Hawke pointed at the dwarf. “Hadran sent some of his boys after stumpy here. Let Athenril know I’m taking him the long way and pass word to my sister to meet me at the place where she saw me with the noblewoman and her daughter.” Hawke wiggled her eyebrows, suggestively. “She’ll know what it means.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“After you swiped my smallclothes and sold them to Meeran? You’re damn right I don’t trust you.” She turned to complain to the confused dwarf, “He stole my underthings and sold them to some pervert and I didn’t even get a percentage!”

“Where did this elf come from?” The dwarf looked around, “are we being followed?’

“Of course we’re being followed,” Hawke sighed.

The dwarf looked around nervously.

Hawke grinned and clapped him on the shoulder, “Ah, don’t worry so much, they aren’t following _you_. Little Tomwise here just has a massive crush on me and stalks me all the time.”

The elf snorted and rolled his eyes, “You wish. Humans are so…”

“Awesome… gorgeous… amazing… tall… sexy…?”

“Fat.”

Hawke burst out laughing. “Give me a couple grenades and get going before Athenril gets nervous.” She reached down to tousle his hair.

Tom ducked away, grinning impishly. “Sure thing, Hawke.” He handed her a belt with several flasks attached.

“You’re my second favorite elf.” She shouted at his retreating back.

“And you’re my third favorite human.” He shot back, over his shoulder.

Hawke turned back to find the dwarf glowering at her. “What?”

He crossed over to her and reached up to push his finger into her sternum. “You’re crazy, human. You’re going to get me killed!”

 Hawke shrugged, “better you than me.” She checked her buckler straps and slung her shield on her back. “I got no skin in this, dwarf. Athenril said this was an easy one.” She glared pointedly at the finger touching her. “You got carta after you, that’s not easy. Makes me wonder if there’s anyone else out there after you that’s gonna make this not easy?”

The dwarf pulled his hand back and shuffled a short distance away. “I’m pretty sure Bahlen wants the information I have.”

“Bahlen? He lives over on Twisted Cour-“

“Bahlen of Orzimar.”

Hawke goggled at him, “King Bahlen… The dwarven king of Orzimar…?”

“Yeah, also, Alistair and Anora would probably be interested—“

“The King and Queen of Ferelden…?”

“Yes, you see it has to do with—“

“AAAHHHHH!” Hawke yelled and put her fingers in her ears. “Andraste’s twisted panties, man! I don’t want to know!” She watched him suspiciously for a moment to determine if he was going to keep talking or not, when he reluctantly nodded, she took her fingers from her ears and pulled her shield off her back, settling it back on her arm. “Okay, let’s think this through… you’ve got some juicy gossip and some powerful people are interested in it.” Hawke paced back and forth muttering to herself. “I could just leave you here… They’d find you and kill you… Athenril would be pissed but I’d still be alive… Maybe I could pawn you off on Loran… no, even he isn’t stupid enough to... The Knight Commander might pay… no, too many witnesses... Shouldn’t have sent Tom—“ She stopped abruptly and spun in place, raising her shield. There was a loud ‘thunk.’ She tossed one of the grenades and dove into a side street, dragging the dwarf along.

Hawke didn’t wait for the small explosion, she  moved through the narrow winding streets at full speed. She could tell the dwarf was having a hard time keeping up so she held onto him sometimes pushing, sometimes pulling but never slacking off the pace. There was no finesse, no strategy, just a head-long rush until she reached the drop. She changed directions abruptly and dove into the alcove. Pulling him over the edge with her.

For his part, the dwarf found himself suddenly falling. They hit a hard slope and a stench unlike anything he’d ever encountered assaulted his nose. It took only a scant moment for him to realize they were sliding down a garbage chute. He opened his mouth to protest and immediately regretted it. They hit the bottom, hard. Hawke had obviously been expecting it. She rolled to her feet in a defensive position, shield up, sword at the ready.

The dwarf spat rotted garbage out of his mouth and tried to gain his footing in the slimy mess. “By the ancestors!” he cursed, “I’ll have you spitted for this, Hawke!”

She sheathed her sword and shoved him up against a nearby wall with one hand, bringing her shield up next to his face. “Do you see this?” He noticed a stiletto sticking out of the shield. “It’s Crow.” Hawke back-handed him, the blow ringing his ears and crossing his eyes. “This’s a fucking Crow assassin blade that was thrown at _me_!” She pried the blade out and examined it closely. “Whatever you’re into and whatever you know, I’m a target now.” She slipped the blade into her sleeve. “Shit just got real.” She wiggled her eyebrows and grinned like a maniac.

The dwarf stared at her, jaw slacked in confusion. “Let me see if I understand the situation,” he began. “Someone found out that I was on my way here and got word out to kill me before I can pass my information on to Athenril…”

“Yep.”

“The carta and the Crows are both after me, and, since you got in their way, they’re after you now too.”

“Yep.”

“There will probably be others as well. After all, if one can afford the Crows and has connections in the carta, they probably also have connections in the City Guard, the Viscount’s Sentinels and possibly even the Chantry and the Templars.”

“Yep.”

“Then why are you smiling?”

Hawke’s green eyes twinkled and her grin, already wide, blossomed into a full blown smile. “’cause now it’s fun!”


	3. Somebody Else's Problem

There’s a moment in any evening out where a normal person realizes that (for whatever reason) the smart thing to do is call it a night and go home. For instance, let’s say that you’ve been asked to escort someone to a specific location and along the way, you find out they’ve got some sort of top-secret information that rich and powerful people are willing to kill for. You’ve been attacked by enforcers for the local drug cartel, narrowly avoided getting arrested by the city guardsmen, have nearly been killed by a professional assassin and now find yourself propped against a wall in a back alley, enduring a disapproving glare from a dwarf, watching your sister perform a healing spell to staunch the bleeding from a large wound in your thigh while you’re all hiding from a company of mercenaries, one of whom gave you the aforementioned wound.

At this point, a normal person would conclude that The Maker had sent them a sign and that it was time to cut their losses and go home.

“Is this still fun, Messer Hawke?” The dwarf’s sarcastic tone left no doubt as to his opinion.

Marian examined the binding on her leg as her sister concentrated on infusing the wound with healing magic. She raised an eyebrow; a mischievous gleam twinkled in her eyes. “And getting funner every second, my friend.”

No one had ever accused Marian Hawke of being normal.

She accepted her sister’s outstretched hand, stood gingerly and tested the leg. She clapped her on the shoulder, “That feels great, Beth. You’re really starting to get the hang of the healing magic.”

Bethany sniffed, disapproval evident in her scowl. “If you were just a little bit more careful, I wouldn’t have to-“

“Aw, Bethany, don’t be a sour-puss.” Hawke frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Bethany wrung her hands, “Why did you tell Tom to say that?”

Hawke’s face screwed-up in confusion. “Tell him to say what?”

“The thing about the noble woman and her daughter!” The younger woman put her hands on her hips, her lower lip protruded in a cute pout. “Mother over-heard and went off on one of her fits! It took me nearly two bells to calm her down and explain that you hadn’t actually had sex with a noblewoman and her daughter, you were talking about us, and then she started crying because she thinks you’re making fun of her for wanting to reclaim her birthright.”

“In her defense, I _was_ making fun of her.” Marian winked. “And who said I never bedded a noblewoman and her daughter?”

“ _Sister_!” Bethany’s hands flew up to cover her mouth. “You’re incorrigible!”

“Among other things,” Hawke grinned. “Not too worried about it though, it got you here and in the nick of time too.” She gestured down at her leg. “Now, I’ve got to get… uh…” She paused and looked over at the dwarf who was pacing the width of the alley muttering about his ancestors. “What the hell is your name, anyway?”

He stopped pacing and crossed his arms over his chest. His lip curled into a snarl, “I’m many things to many people…” He trailed off when Hawke pulled out a dagger and began examining the blade.

She regarded him out of the corner of her eye, “There’s only room for one smart-ass in this group, and I’ve got it covered.”

Bethany put her hand on Hawke’s arm. “What will Atheneril say if you kill him?”

Hawke cocked her head to the side and thought for a moment. “Probably something like; ‘you just cost me a lot of money, Hawke. I’m extending your indenture by three months. Now get down on your knees and put that clever tongue of yours to good use.’”

“ _Sister_!” Bethany’s face turned bright crimson.

Hawke cocked an eyebrow. “What?”

“She wouldn’t!”

Hawke laughed. “How do you think we get all the good assignments?”

“Like this one, where everybody and their uncle is trying to kill you?”

“Good point. Maybe my tongue isn’t as clever as I think.”

The dwarf cleared his throat. “As fascinating as I find discussing the mating habits of humans, is there any way we could do it somewhere less…” he glanced around the dirty alley, “…here?”

Hawke grinned. “You’re okay, my good-friend-from-out-of-town. I guess we can fit two wise-asses into our merry band.” She flexed her injured leg. “Feels almost like new, Beth. Let’s get this little guy to the warehouse and maybe I can get to the Hanged Man before the suckers run out of coin.”

“Kinnet.”

“Can it what?.”

“No, _Kinnet_.” the dwarf grumbled. “My name is ‘Kinnet. Worthy Kinnet.’”

Hawke stopped mid-step and turned to face the dwarf. “Worthy? Really?’

“Harumph, really.”

“Do all dwarves name their kids after attributes like that or- aw, shit!” Hawke tensed at the sight of armor. Her first though was that the company they’d tangled with had found them but it turned out to be both better and worse. There were only three men but they were Templars and one of them was the Knight-Captain. She glanced at Bethany and motioned her to stay in the alley. Marian stepped out into the street. If she was going to fight Templars, she’d need room to maneuver. “Knight-Captain Cullen.” She said, shifting as he approached to keep herself between him and her sister. “What brings you to Lowtown at this hour?”

Cullen glanced around, eyes lingering at the bandage on her thigh, before meeting her glare head on. “Mistress Hawke.” His tone was conversational but his hand rested on the hilt of his sword and he held himself at the ready. The two other Templars with him made no pretense of casual posture. They stood with shields raised and swords at the ready. “The melificar does not restrict itself to evil during the light of day. We, of The Order, must be ready to defend the faithful at any time.”

Hawke sheathed the dagger and brought her hands together in a slow clap. “Well said, Ser Templar. You must be the pride of your men.” She gave an exaggerated bow. “We poor citizens, uneducated as we are on the ways of the mailificar, can only bask in awe and wonder at your superior knowledge. I’m sure that our proximity to the Lace and Lantern is nothing but an innocent coincidence.”

The Knight Captain was nonplussed, “Quite, er...”

Hawke cocked her head to the side and furrowed her brow. She leaned in conspiratorially, “If I may be so bold as to ask, were you able to examine all of the girls? Is there a vicious, evil malificar among them? Or, perhaps you were examining the boys…”

“We’ve had reports of-“

“Knight-Captain,” Hawke interrupted, “If there’s an evil mage whore at L&L, don’t you think you should share that information with the good citizens of Kirkwall?”

 “Ah- we weren’t in the… that is… we’re following up on-“

“So, you don’t have any specific evil mage in mind.” Hawke drawled. “You’re just wandering around Lowtown… Blindly looking for evil mages… Who _might_ be summoning demons… In the middle of the night… And you stopped in at the brothel because you’re really dedicated to your job…?”

Cullen had the decency to look embarrassed. “When you say it like that, it seems…”

“Dumb? Contrived? Like a poorly conceived corroborative detail designed to lend verisimilitude to a bald and unconvincing narrative?”

Cullen’s eyes narrowed. His hand clenched around the hilt of his sword. “You use a lot of fancy words for a refugee.”

“And you spend a lot of effort on your hair for someone who wears a helmet most of the time.”

Hawke and Cullen eyed each other warily for nearly a full minute. The tense silence was broken by one of the other Templars. “That stick the girl’s holding looks a lot like a mage’s staff.”

“It’s a club.” “It’s a walking stick.” Bethany and the dwarf answered at the same time. Then exchanged a nervous glance.

The Templar took two steps forward, “Is it a walking stick or a club? Or maybe it’s a walking club-stick?” He asked, sarcastically.

Hawke crossed her arms and shifted her glare from the Knight Captain to the one who had spoken. “It’s none of your business.” She said.

“Now see here, Hawke-“

“No! You see here, _Knight-Captain_.” Marian took two quick steps forward and leaned in until their noses were a scant hand’s width apart. “I know your commander has a bug up her ass and she’s taking it out on you guys, but nobody here is doing magic.” She turned on the Templar who had spoken up before. “That’s your thing, right? You go around finding mages and locking them in the tower for their own good? You protect the faithful from the evil malificars who want to use our blood for their evil rituals, right? Well do you see anybody doing magic here, _Templar_?” She whirled around to point at the other one. “Do _you_ see anybody doing magic?” Hawke turned up her hands and shrugged her shoulders. “No magic, no mages, no malifcar… no reason for nosey Templars to hang around.  And, as much as we appreciate your efforts, this part of the faithful can protect itself.”

Cullen regarded her suspiciously for a few more moments before turning to his companions. “Come on, lads, whatever Hawke is smuggling, it isn’t our concern.” He waited until they were several paces away before leaning in to her and murmuring, “Tell Athenril that if the Knight-Commander gets her way, the Templars will be over the city guard and what you’re smuggling will be our concern, after all.”

Hawke nodded. “I’ll pass it along,” she said. “And, Cullen?” she glanced at Bethany, “Thanks.”

He followed her gaze and let out a sigh. “Would it kill her to carry something that’s less obviously a staff? Or wear something without feathers?”

Marian smiled. “Probably.”


	4. They Went That-a-way!

When the door opened, Hawke dove into the room, dragging Beth and Worthy behind her. She lifted a surprised Tomwise off his feet and spun him around with a loud whoop. “Maker’s breath! What a rush!” She set the startled elf down and spun back toward the door, slamming the locking bars into place. “You shoulda’ seen it! Tommy!” She slung her shield on her back and began wiping her sword blade clean. “Musta’ been a half dozen Templars… a couple hands of carta enforcers and…” She turned to Beth, “How many Red Iron guys did you count?”

Bethany scowled at her. “I wasn’t performing a census of the mob chasing us, _sister_. I was too busy running for my life!”

Hawke turned back to Tom, “In that case, it was at least twenty!” She winked and turned to Worthy, “Unless you counted?”

“The only thing I counted was the twenty times you dragged us past the same building!” He said. “We’re you trying to make me dizzy by leading us around in circles?”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Hawke. I’m a dwarf, I know a little something about stonework and we went by the same blighted cornice half a dozen times.”

Hawke laughed. “I forgot this was your first time in Kirkwall.”   

“What does that have to do with it?”                  

“Every building in the city looks pretty much the same. It’s like they only had the blueprints for one house and just built it over and over again. She clapped him on the back, “You get used to it... eventually.” Hawke leaned in, eyes gleaming with mirth, “There are stories of people getting confused and living in the wrong house for years!”  At his disbelieving glance, she turned to her fellow Kirkwallers for support. “Tell him, Tom… Beth!”

The younger Hawke sister looked sheepish. “There are stories but—“

“A-HA!” Marian pumped her fist, “Told you—“

“Those stories aren’t important, Marian.” Bethany grabbed her sister’s arm “Do you think the Red Iron is after me!”

“Why would they be after you?” Worthy asked.

“Their leader knows I’m a mage, if he’s after the bounty…”

Hawke shook her head. “Nah, they’re not looking for you.” She said.

“How do you know?” Bethany asked. “They kept screaming our name, so I’m pretty sure they weren’t after Worthy.”

Marian grimaced and put on a forced smile. “Let’s just say, I’m pretty sure you’re not the reason why they were chasing us.”

“They’re after you?”

“That’d be my guess.”

“Why would they be after you? ”Worthy and Bethany talked over each other.

“Uh… I don’t think that’s important.”

“Why would… What’d you do to the Red Iron?”

 Hawke took a deep breath. “Beth, give it a rest. I’ll tell you about it later.”

 “ _Sister_! **_What did you do to the Red Iron_**?”

Hawke cleared her throat and pretended to study the door. “I may have sold them a ship.”

Bethany blinked several times as she looked for the words to respond. Finally, she asked, “Where did you get a ship and what was wrong with it?”

Hawke grinned nervously and scrunched up her shoulders. “First of all, there was nothing _wrong_ with the ship. I just… didn’t actually _have_ a ship so… there was some confusion when the actual owners showed up during the transaction.”

Worthy peeked out of one of the shuttered windows. “I think they’re surrounding the building.”

Beth, rested her face in her hands and shook her head. “Marian, who’s ship did you sell—“

She was interrupted by an angry shout, “HAWKE!”

Marian spun around and threw her arms wide, “ _Thinney_! Give us a hug!”

“I’ll give you something, _Mary_.” Athenril said. “And if you don’t have a good explanation for the crap you pulled tonight, you can be damned sure you won’t like it.”

“What’d I do?” Hawke looked around, genuinely confused. “You told me to get the dwarf, and I got the dwarf!” She pointed dramatically across the room, “He’s right there! He’s alive and everything! Look! He’s even got all his arms and legs! What the fuck are you mad about?”

Athenril stared at her for a moment. “Hawke,” She spoke slowly and deliberately, “Why is he _here_? Why are _you_ here? Why is there a fucking army of Templars, carta and mercenaries banging around on my front step?”

Marian, crossed her arms and stuck out her chin. “He’s here because you told me to get the dwarf and bring him here. I’m here for pretty much the same reasons.” She put her index finger on her lips and looked thoughtful for a moment, “We might have had run-ins with some Templars, mercenaries and the carta during the part where I got the dwarf and brought him here.”

Athenril shook her head, let out a sigh. “I specifically said ‘ _don’t_ bring him here.’” She rubbed her face with her hand. “Do you ever listen to anyone else, or do the voices in your head drown out the rest of the world?”

Hawke held up a hand, palm out. “Wait your turn.” She said, while tapping her temple with the finger of her other hand.

“Andraste’s Ashes, Hawke!” Athenril shouted. “I really don’t have time for your shit!”

“What do you want from me? You told me to get the dwarf, I got the dwarf. It’s not my fault that half the city wants a piece of him!”

“He’s not the one everybody is after. I wanted him to be seen with you to throw everyone off the real scent.” Athenril sighed again. “You were _supposed_ to be seen showing him around. You were _supposed_ to bring him in through the main gate, grab a drink at the Dragon’s Flagon, do some shopping… maybe even take him to the Blooming Rose to get laid! Instead, you end up skulking through Lowtown picking fights with Hadron, Cullen and Maker only knows who else and leading everyone in Kirkwall to the exact spot where I don’t want any of them.!”

“Wait-a-minute!” Hawke pointed a finger at her, “You set me up to be a distraction?”

 Athenril rolled her eyes, “You work for me, Hawke. That means I get to tell you what to do.”

“But a distraction?” Marian clutched her shirt and wrung the material in her hands, “How far have I fallen? What will my poor mother think of me? Reduced to the role of decoy! I’m past my prime! I’m washed-up…” She fell to her knees and raised her arms to the heavens, “How can I ever hope to regain my noble status in society?”

“You never had noble status in society.” Tom said, dryly.

Hawke stopped mid wail and cracked open an eye, “Oh, well, in that case… Fuck it.” She clapped her hands together and nodded to Athenril. “Sorry, boss. What happens now?”

“You cost me a lot of money, Hawke. So I’m going to extend your indenture by a couple months. Now, since you’re already on your knees, why don’t you crawl over here and see if you can work off a week of it.”

Bethany gasped and turned bright red.

Hawke burst out laughing and collapsed to the floor, holding her stomach. Athenril managed to keep a straight face for moment longer but finally dissolved into quiet laughter. Worthy looked back and forth between the two, bewildered. Tom just shook his head and found a place to sit down.

When Athenril managed to get her laughter under control she bent over to help Hawke into a sitting position. She slapped Hawke on the back, “Oh, gods! You were right, Marian. Her face was too much!” She pulled her to her feet. “Doesn’t change the fact that you screwed up and made a mess of tonight.”

Bethany pouted. “That wasn’t funny.”

Hawke ignored her and pointed at Athenril, “It’s your own fault for over estimating my listening skills.”

“Be that as it may, this is your mess, you’re going to clean it up.”

Hawke grinned. “Give me an axe and show me where to point it.”

“I’ve got to be at the south docks with the informant in an hour. That means, sometime in the next half hour, you’ve got to be seen leaving here. _Publicly_.” She turned to the dwarf. “I hate to do this to you, Worthy, but you’ve got to be seen leaving with her.”

Hawke looked sharply at Athenril. “If he comes with me, how are you going to get him to the docks?”

Athenril laughed. “Hawke! Were you _still_ not listening? He’s not the informant, he’s a rune-smith.”

Hawke whirled around and pointed an accusing finger at him, “All that crap about kings wanting to get inside your head…”

Worthy’s eyes twinkled. “Got you.”

Hawke’s mouth opened and closed a few times. She raised a hand and dropped it back down. She turned to Athenril, then back to Worthy and finally to her sister who was covering her mouth with both hands and giggling like crazy. She opened her mouth once more and finally just threw up her hands shook her head.

Athenril laughed again and clapped the dwarf on the back. “Eight months! I’ve been trying to get her to shut-up for eight months, and you did it in one night.”  There was genuine admiration in her voice. “You’re going to fit right in, Worthy.”

The dwarf grinned and looked around, “did my crates get here?”

“Yeah,” Tom spoke up. “They’re down the hall. Follow me.”

Bethany and Worthy followed the small elf out of the room. Hawke hung back. “Athenril…?” her voice was timid and carried none of its usual snark. “I know I screwed up and I’m going to have to go out there and… but Beth should stay here, there’re thirty of them… I…”

Athenril smiled and moved over to her, “Aw, Mary. I’m not sending you out alone.” She reached up to pat the tall woman’s cheek. “As big a pain in my ass as you are, You and your sister are good assets, I’m not going to waste you.” She nodded her head toward the door. “C’mon, let’s get you kitted out.”

Hawke stopped in shock at the sight that greeted her when she walked into the storeroom. Worthy, already in custom grieves, was pulling on a breastplate. A wicked looking shield and a double-headed axe were laid out next to a helmet and gauntlets.  “Seriously?” she said. “This whole time, you let me fight all by myself?”

He grinned. “I didn’t have my gear. Besides, you really seemed to be enjoying it.” He shrugged, “who am I to get in your way?”

“You are **_so_** buying the beer when we hit the Hanged Man.”

“I’ll do better than that.” He rummaged around in one of the crates, pulled out a simple buckler and held it out to her.

Hawke sniffed. “Doesn’t look like much.”

“Don’t let it fool you, Hawke. This is equipped with a special rune. A Kinnet family secret.”

She strapped it to her arm and tested the weight and balance. “What does it do?”

“Depending on an object’s mass and speed, when this shield comes in contact with something, any transferred energy will increase threefold.”

Hawke’s eyes glazed over and she blinked rapidly. “Beth? What does that mean in non-magey, non-dwarfy talk?”

“The bigger the thing you hit with the shield, and the harder you hit it, the further it’s going to fly.”

Hawke closed her eyes and licked her lips. A small shudder passed through her. She leaned over to Beth and, in a whisper that carried easily through the room, said; “I think Tom could get a premium for my smalls now.”

“EWWW! I DID NOT NEED TO KNOW THAT!”

Ten minutes later Hawke, Worthy and ten of Athenril’s best enforcers gathered in the ante-room. Atheneril raised her hands for attention, “There’s only a dozen of you here, but we’ve got re-enforcements coming up from behind them. You’ll hit them hard and fast from here and Jerault’s boys will come at them from the docks. That should force them up-town where the guards actually pay attention to what’s going on. Remember, you don’t have to kill them. You just have to make them not here. Go on Tom’s signal” She nodded to Hawke and headed back into the warehouse.

Worthy came over to Hawke and stood next to her. “You catch all that?”

Hawke shrugged. “She always makes things so complicated.”

“So…?”

“So.”

“Let’s don’t get dead.”

A huge grin split Hawke’s face. “Sounds like a plan!”

The signal came and Hawke burst from the building at the head of her group. She charged down the stairs and rolled directly into the center of a group of carta dwarves. With a quick sword thrust, she dispatched one and quickly began laying about her with sword and shield. It was several minutes before she managed to plant her feet and really lay into one of the dwarves with her shield. There was a _very_ satisfying impact, the sound of broken bones, a cry of pain and the little bugger flew backward. He landed nearly two meters away and slid another three, smashing a wooden barrel and tripping up a couple mercenaries before slamming into the bottom of a stone staircase with a dull thud. She couldn’t be certain, over the noise of the melee, but she thought she heard a whimper.

 

end

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this little tale. I had a lot of fun writing it and I'm thinking about writing more short stories about this version of Hawke. Drop me a line and let me know what you think. Every signed review gets a response including a preview of the next story! (What?)


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